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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29757123">My Taste in Music is Your Face</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamonnaie/pseuds/lamonnaie'>lamonnaie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(Momentarily), Alternate Universe - College/University, Coffee, College AU, First Meetings, Fluff, Library, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Studying, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:21:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29757123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamonnaie/pseuds/lamonnaie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>That was exactly when the mysterious green-clad man had spoken up. “I like your hair.”</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And George, who’d apparently lost any filter between his brain and his mouth, had replied, “I like your face.”</em>
</p><p>It's 1am, George is at the library studying, and there's a cute boy sitting across him. If only George had any filter between his mind and his mouth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>433</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Taste in Music is Your Face</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First DSMP work? First DSMP work.<br/>I'm sleepy and wanted to write my boys being sleepy.</p><p>Title from "Tear in My Heart" by Twenty One Pilots, with no actual connection to the plot.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I like your hair.”</p><p>“I like your face.”</p><p>And so it began. Had George been just a tad bit more conscious, he’d have thought twice about his response. But alas, he was on his third coffee in the last hour alone and slowly but surely going insane.</p><p><em>Who</em> in their goddamn mind had decided to place all his exams in the same fucking week? He’d very much like to have a stern talk with them.</p><p>So here he was, sitting at the campus library on a Friday night with a to-go cup in one hand and an open textbook in the other. Go to uni, they’d said, you can party all night, they’d said. So much for that. At least he had company, George had thought when he’d first come in a couple hours ago; another sad soul who was spending his Friday night studying.</p><p> Yet all that comfort had vanished the moment he had opened his mouth and let out that, quite frankly, <em>dumb</em> response. He could feel his cheeks already turning a beet red, all the caffeine only worsening the colour.</p><p>At least it wasn’t a lie by any means. George could admit that they guy looked <em>good</em>, especially for so late at night (or early in the morning, depending how you looked at it). He was in a pale yellow hoodie a size too big, the sleeves curling over his fingers in the most endearing way as he had paged through his own textbook for the last few hours. <em>World History</em>, George read from the header. <em>Huh, interesting.</em></p><p>Oh wait - now that he thought about it again, George was pretty sure that the hoodie was rather a pale green.</p><p>His hair had a golden glow to it, the harsh fluorescent lights that made everything else look tacky somehow amplifying its colour. And his eyes, <em>God.</em> George may or may not have been stealing glances at him every now and then, and the one thing that stuck out the most were those goddamn eyes. They were a similar shade to his hoodie, a bright green colour, that made his gaze intense.</p><p>Okay, so maybe George was just a little gone for this stranger. But no matter how attractive he found him, he’d just blown all his chances with that one dumb comment. Great job George, he thought to himself.</p><p>The two had both paused their work at the same time, the attractive stranger stretching his arms out while George opted to do the opposite and slumped forward in his chair, head resting on his arms as he took the moment to relax. And maybe also so he wouldn’t be caught staring.</p><p>That was exactly when the mysterious green-clad man had spoken up. “I like your hair.”</p><p>And George, who’d apparently lost any filter between his brain and his mouth, had replied, “I like your face.”</p><p>To his credit, he let out a groan immediately after, stuffing his face back into his arms in an attempt to make the whole situation disappear. A moment passed in silence, and George even got his hopes up that maybe all his manifesting had really worked and he’d somehow taken back his comment, but that simply wasn’t the case.</p><p>“What?” the other man exclaimed. The sudden noise startled George, and he quickly raised his head from its perch. The man didn’t seem to look nor sound too offended – instead, he seemed more curious, and possibly intrigued, by George’s words.</p><p>Now that <em>completely </em>threw him off. Yet now that he thought about it, the other man <em>had</em> been the one to comment first on his hair, so what he replied with was only a reasonable response.</p><p>Yeah right.</p><p>If this went badly, George would blame it on the caffeine and sleep deprivation, but in a split-second decision, he decided to say fuck it and throw caution to the wind. “I said I like your face.”</p><p>He sounded a lot more confident than he felt.</p><p>And the other man seemed to think so too. He started spluttering, which soon transitioned into laughter as a high wheezing sort of sound was drawn out of him as he tried to calm himself down.</p><p>Okay, now George was confused. Was this strange man <em>laughing</em> at him? It stung a bit, if he were being entirely honest, but George found solace in the fact that he’d probably never cross paths with him again after tonight.</p><p>After a couple seconds (minutes, hours? George wasn’t really sure), the man seemed to have calmed down.</p><p>“You ‘kay?” George asked, raising an eyebrow in question as he all but faked nonchalance.</p><p>For a moment, George was sure that he was about to set off the man’s odd tea kettle-like wheezes again, but the stranger schooled himself better this time around.</p><p>“Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just- I… I like your face too,” the man seemed content with his words, but they just confused George even more. Was he mocking him now? The resentment must have been clear on George’s face, as he quickly backtracked. “No, like seriously. You’re really cute. Do you wanna get coffee sometime?”</p><p>And oh. <em>Oh.</em></p><p>Oh my god, this cute as hell boy just called <em>him</em> cute? All of a sudden, George was glad he’d spent the last couple hours in excruciating pain if only so he could hear those few words.</p><p>If only his mouth had gotten the memo.</p><p>“Uh, I have coffee here,” he replied in a monotone, raising the nearly empty cup in his hand.</p><p><em>What the fuck. </em>What was he doing?</p><p>George liked puppies, he loved them, and he’d never do anything to hurt one. So when he saw the other guy’s expression looking exactly like how his dog had the one time he’d accidentally locked him out in the cold, he felt his heart sink.</p><p>The cute man’s demeanour changed entirely as he tidied up his already tidy books and did absolutely anything to avoid George’s gaze. “Oh okay, that’s fine.”</p><p>He sounded like a kicked puppy too.</p><p>“No!” George yelled out. He winced as he realised just how loud he was, before continuing at a more reasonable volume. “I’m sorry, I’m tired and the caffeine isn’t helping. Hi, I’m George, you’re also really cute, and I would absolutely love to get coffee.”</p><p>There, that should fix things right? It seemed so, as the man was now beaming right back at him.</p><p>“Awesome! I’m Clay,” he said. Then after a moment, “Should we exchange numbers?”</p><p>“Sure!” George chirped back.</p><p>The pair pulled out their phones, quickly exchanging numbers and each sending a text to say hi before they put their phones back down.</p><p>The room settled back into a comfortable silence like it had been for the majority of the night, but this time, George kept his gaze unashamedly on Clay. He didn’t seem to mind, as he too was staring right back.</p><p>Suddenly, George caught his open textbook in his periphery and remembered why he was there. He averted his gaze first, a blush blooming across his cheeks but for a different reason this time. Clay seemed to catch the drift too, and he began sifting through his textbook as well.</p><p>So that’s how it continued: the two of them, sitting opposite one another at a library table, each reading their own textbooks into the early hours of the morning.</p><p>The only difference this time around was the ankle Clay had artfully hooked around George’s own, and the soft glances they’d share every once in a while.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!! &lt;3<br/>My <a href="http://lamonnaie.tumblr.com">tumblr</a> :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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